The Last Branding
by Netta Sloan
Summary: The last stage of Ed's automail.  You may want to read That Metallic Tinge first.
1. Drilling

He lay there panting, doing his best to make out Winry's voice over the sound of his body's failure to contain the pain. Bits and snatches were all that came to him. "Scrape away some new scar tissue" "Drill directly into the bone" "Wires cut and connected" "Burned" "Closed" He gave up. Every now and then he would hear Al's voice cut in to have something clarified. The gauntlet was comforting on his arm. How he loved his brother in this moment. The pain shooting up and down his body as the diagnostic machines did their work was nothing in comparison.

He was tired of this. He needed to be recovering so he could go to East City, meet with that soldier, and fix Al. All of this talking was just getting in the way. He blindly grabbed towards Winry's voice, ignoring the pain that shot through his chest with the movement. She gasped as he connected with something and Al quickly regained his hand, pulling it back down. He didn't care what he grabbed or that he'd been restrained. The voices had stopped. "Just do it."

"But Brother!-"

"Ed! You-"

He jerked his arm away, the movement silencing his companions again. The wash cloth that had lain over his eyes was thrown weakly away. "Just do it!" He glared up at them both until a small "tsk" from the doorway caught their attention.

"You heard him, girl. Let's get it started." His eyes closed in relief and he ignored the fussing around him, letting his limbs go limp as they tied them down again. Soon he would have his arm and leg. Soon he would be walking. Soon he could see Al's smile again. He listened as Al's armor squeaked with movements. He didn't want his brother to see this, but he didn't want to hurt him again by having him leave. He was on the verge of reaching out for Winry again when he heard whispers.

"Al……"

"Sorry……..can't bear…watch……bad enough…..unconscious……sorry."

"Okay……understand……promise…..he….too."

The clanking of metal footsteps exited the room, leaving him behind with very mixed feelings. He gave up his attempt to sort them out as her face moved into view. As she moved closer he felt squashed down feelings and a newly ignored truth bubble up to the surface. He sighed as her face moved beside his, some of her hair falling on his cheek. The bubble almost popped as he felt her lips graze his earlobe. "Al's upstairs getting your room ready. He's going to take you to it when we're done here." His hand shot out as she started to move away, trying to slow her going. "Winry, I…I…" He strained, but the words wouldn't come. Her hand gently covered his as she moved back to his ear again. "Its okay, Ed. I know." He shook his head, but it was over as she very firmly moved back. The last tie was tightened over his hand as he felt a piece of tape come across his forehead, marking him immobile.

"Here we go, boy." Hands gripped his leg and shoulder. He heard bandages being cut through and torn away. A new pain lanced through him as both wounds were prodded at, then a jolt as the wires were seized. Twin whining noises started making his teeth grind uncontrollably. Veins stood at attention all along his body as the sound came closer. An empty dread flushed through him as he felt something bump into the open wounds and then begin to drill. He groaned through his clenched teeth, the vibrations as the new wounds were made causing the wires to shake sending more shocks through his system. He felt a warm wetness run down his side as the whining noises moved up to a higher pitch. The sound of something alive splintering reached his ears. His eyes bulged as he screamed through locked lips, the realization at what was splintering breaking through his mind.

The machines shut off and his jaw unclenched until the cold hit him. He tightened back up, shivering just a little, shoulders hunched. His stomach muscles writhed as more wetness ran down his side, tickling through the pain. For a moment all sound stopped and he heard a leaky faucet somewhere, the ping of water echoing off tile. Then it was gone and a sucking started. It was muffled, seeming to come from somewhere inside of him. He pushed away the thoughts and summoned images of his brother. Images of the people he loved flashed through his mind as the whining noise started up again. He kept them, shuffling through their faces like cards until the machines shut off for the last time.

"Ed." He snapped his eyes open at his name. She was looking down at him again, her face almost directly above his. "We're taking a small break. The holes for the screws are drilled. Do you want me to tell you again what we do next?" He tried to shake his head no, forgetting it was strapped down. She was able to interpret the movement anyways. "Okay. Granny went for a smoke. If you want some water open your mouth." He closed his eyes and opened his lips obediently.


	2. Threading

He jumped slightly when the door opened and strained to watch Winry as she moved from the bedside. Female voices and pans rattling came to him as he stared at the edge of his vision, his eyes going slightly cross-eyed waiting for her to return. Grandmother and Granddaughter returned together, arms full of a jumble of things. Moving to his left, Winry set her armful down. Granny came up to his right, setting down her things and removed the tape from his head. His eyes widened in fear as the old woman reached across him, grasping his side firmly. He felt Winry's hands slide under his back and they counted to three. He was roughly lifted up and he felt something wedge under his back. Pain sprouted through his chest and he felt dizzy as he was laid back down. At an angle now, his entire upper torso tilted to the left the dizziness remained. He couldn't focus and fought the gentle hands that tried to turn his head to the left. He lost, the tape coming back across, pinning him again. A large funnel was placed in front of his mouth and it led off the bed. He panicked again, this time shouting as well as trying to free himself.

Clanking footsteps approached the room, adding to the noise. Old lined hands pressed on his torso, attempting to hold him. He began to cry again as the pain intensified with his fit. Al appeared in his line of sight and he reached out, forgetting for a moment to be tough. His brother put a hand on his head, the cool calming him somewhat. He closed his eyes.

"Ed, stop thrashing around. You're making it hurt worse and I don't want that. Just let Granny and Winry do what they need to do." Al pleaded with him. He felt instantly shamed, letting his brother see him like this. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered why Al hadn't helped them change his angle. A whispered "_Can't bear it_…" floated back to his consciousness and he bit his lip, trying to stop more tears from flowing.

"S'okay Al." His voice sounded shaky and he winced under the palm of the armor. "You can go. It's not so bad." The hand moved and he could see the concern radiating out of his brother's eyes. "Winry?" He called for her, hoping that she could take Al out of here. He heard her voice and watched as Al left his bedside. A minute later he heard her small footsteps come back. He forced a smile as she kneeled down beside him, bringing her eyes to within an inch of his. She returned his smile, her eyes confident and sure.

"We're almost done, Ed. The next couple of parts may make you nauseous so it's easier if you can just throw up. That's why we moved you. If you want to spit or anything at any time, just do it. If you want for us to stop just pat your left hand up and down repeatedly. You'll be able to see Granny as she works on your leg if you want to watch. Take your time and catch your breath. We won't start until you are ready." He felt the hands on his chest slowly ease off and begin running through his hair. Winry stayed at his side, taking his left hand and running light circles over his wrist with her thumb. After a few minutes he felt calmer and nodded once. Winry pressed her forehead to his. "Are you sure?" He managed to nod again and she stood.

He waited with his eyes closed as they moved into position. When he felt Granny grasp his leg he opened them. She gave him her usual crooked smile from her position at his side. He smiled back and even managed a thumbs-up with his left hand so she could see. He heard Winry giggle and closed his eyes again. He tried to relax and just breathe as he felt things moving to the side. His breath stopped when the wires were grabbed simultaneously on both sides of him, the familiar pulsing shooting through his system. He bit down on a cry and his left hand squeezed the sheets. His right foot ground into the bed as his entire body tightened up. The wires were not casually tossed aside, but instead something was threaded onto him. He felt like all of his skin was being flayed off with a butter knife as the scraping sensation moved up his nerves. Black and bright light came to his eyes in alternating pulses. Sweat popped out of his pores as gooseflesh traveled across his body. He was making a gibbering noise; it reminded him of cicadas in the south. Every attempt to stop it made it louder. Whatever was traveling along his nerves grew hot and he felt flushed. His stomach roiled as the heat rose. Bile rose up in the back of his throat and completely surpassed his mouth, clenched shut on yells as it was, to roll slowly out of his nostrils.

He gasped and the vomit was sucked between his lips. He spit crying out as whatever it was moving on his nerves hit the end. The heat was ground into his arm and the pain became concentrated on the end of his appendages. _Burning_. He felt the flesh blister and pop as the metal pressed harder on the ends of him. Tears ran down his face and his nose crinkled as the smell reached his nostrils. He was overwhelmed and cried more freely as he began to dry heave. Working for six months in a butcher's shop had done nothing to prepare him for this.


	3. Cutting

As the pressure subsided so did his dry heaving. The burning faded away to just a duller pain, replaced by all of his bodies various other complaints. He opened his eyes, wondering if it was all over. It didn't look like. Granny was carefully aligning a small cylindrical object at the end of his leg. She didn't look back at him as he continued to stare. He watched as when she had it where she wanted she looked up at Winry, nodded, set her jaw and then slid it in. He felt the wires give a jerk then the old ladies arm twisted severely and two massive jolts traveled all the way to his brain. He felt rung out and convulsed again under those hands. He felt his own drool sliding down his neck as he shivered. He watched his left hand flexing frantically as he fought to slap the bed.

Finally regaining control over his motor skills, Granny met his eyes. She made a motion to Winry and he felt a cool cloth begin mopping the back of his neck. He relaxed under the gentle strokes and accepted Granny's offering of water. After rinsing and spitting a few times he lost control. The smell of Ed bacon was still in the air and he was almost at his limit. He broke, sobs wracking his body so hard they tugged at his restraints. Relief flooded him when the bond holding his arm down was loosened. He brought his arm up, gathering the old woman who had helped raise him and cried on her shoulder for a minute when she allowed herself to be dragged down to his level. She smelled like tobacco and rainy days in a rocking chair. He ignored the light footsteps that tip-toed out of the room as he let everything out on the only adult he had.

After a few minutes and a few mumbled apologies he managed to calm down. He stared at the ground ashamed before working up the courage to ask if they were done. He felt his dread return and almost sobbed again when she shook her head no, but he clamped down on it. "Finish it." She looked a little taken aback at his tone before smiling. "I'm waitin' on Winry. She's double-checking that your room is ready. We're going to be movin' you after we're done here." He nodded in response and lay back. The cloth on the back of his neck was becoming itchy and he was tired of lying at an angle. He wanted to be away from the smell of his own vomit and cooking flesh.

A little more time passed in which he almost drifted off into sleep when Winry came back. He felt his bonds replaced and the hands grabbed him again. He closed his eyes, chanting ten minutes, ten minutes over and over again in his mind. The smell of cooking flesh followed another flash of pain with chills. He ignored it, vomiting and spitting as his stomach tried to escape. Before the pain of the burning could fade away he heard twin drills start up. He jerked when the metal touched him, the hot brand being driven straight into his bones. He could hear himself moaning and made his chant louder in his head. He let his mind scream even as his throat convulsed, first giving up stomach acid, then the mucous lining his trachea, and finally he tasted blood again. It even burned its way out of his nostrils as piece by piece the metal capping his stumps was branded onto his flesh.

When the drills stopped for the fourth time he gasped a little, trying to get his focus back. He saw Granny come into view, a metal wielding mask pulled over his face as she approached him with a small torch. He closed his eyes as his body heat up again. A few last passes, his bladder squeezed so tight there was no liquid left, his face a mess of vomit and blood and snot and it was over. The torches were shut off. He heard running water and the sound of machinery being banged around. The bond on his head loosened and the vomit-chute as he thought of it was pulled gently out from under his mouth. He heard footsteps and a door shutting, before whatever was propping him up slid out from behind him. His eyes became teary again, grateful to be lying flat even as pain shot through his joints.

Winry appeared in his field of vision. Her blue eyes excited and tired; flush with success of her work, worried for him, and generally exhausted met his. In spite of it all she got busy cleaning him. He breathed in relief as his face was cleaned. He squirmed when she continued dragging the rag over the rest of his body. Embarrassment came back as she checked on his catheter, cleaning his parts while doing it. He felt the tube come sliding out of him and fought with himself to remain still. He listened to her voice as she crooned words of comfort at him, not really registering what she was saying. When she'd finished with everything in his nether regions she moved on, wiping the sweat from his leg, stump, and even between his toes. She moved back to where he could see her and slowly pulled the IV out of his arm. He winced, but made no protest. A clean sheet was pulled over him after she finished and he felt the worse of his chills die down.

He heard clanking footsteps enter the room again. He groaned at his brother's cheerful greeting, doing his best to put on an irritated to face to mask how suddenly tired he felt. The armor lifted him up, cradling him. He was a little scared of the new height, but knew Al wouldn't drop him. "Winry?" "I'll be up when I finish cleaning down here." He nodded and hunched further down into the sheet, wishing someone would pull up the bottom so his backside wouldn't be so cold. They left the room, sunshine slanting through the windows and alighting on his pale form for the first time in weeks. He sighed in its light and did his best to put an arm around Al. "Al, we're closer. I'll be sparring with you before you know it." "I know, Brother, but for now you need to rest." He smiled at this typical Al response and let himself drift, his weariness winning over the pain. He didn't stir at all as Al tucked him into bed, or even when Winry climbed in a little after.

_18/09/07 -Author's note: Well, that's it for the surgery. Ed has the automail port completely installed with the conclusion of this fic. Of course having the automail attached for the first time and learning how to use it is a whole other monster. I just want to thank everyone who has continued to read all of my automail installation fics: "Catheter", "Regrets about the Procedure", "Three Days of Waking", "That Metallic Tinge", and finally "The Last Branding"._

_To my regular reviewers: I just want to say thank you again for correcting my mistakes, leaving a kind word, and your overall encouragement to keep writing. _

_19/09/07 -For anyone in the Orlando, FL area be sure to go to the Regal Waterford Lakes theater for a showing of The Conqueror of Shamballa at 7:30. I'll be making the drive in-land to cry for the full hour and a half._


End file.
